Bad Memories
by Gramnegative
Summary: A key member of the Lagoon Company goes missing. A certain Nun and a friend decide to investigate and find out many things better left forgotten.
1. Chapter 1

_A/N - All characters are the property of Rei Hiroe. _

_Buy his books, make him happy and offer sacrifices that he might start writing again. _

_This story takes place after my other 'Wants & Desires' which is sometime after the Terminator maid tried to destroy Roanapur_

**Bad Memories**

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Chapter 1 - Dark Nights

_"Memories come in two flavors...the sweet flowers we hold onto...and the nooses we tie around our own necks" Anonymous_

You have to be pretty dense, but sometimes people actually mistake me for a real Catholic nun. Of course most of them are crack heads, but still.

Yeah, I know, the habit and the wimple are the real thing, but for Christ's sake, between the Harley, the chewing gum and the glasses even the most mindless drone should be able to figure it out.

Not to mention the Glock and the whole chastity thing.

"Sister," the local cop addressed me as he approached from one side, "This neighborhood is not a safe place for you."

True enough, at this time of night you wouldn't find many friendly faces around here. In fact it was mostly deserted.

The cop and his partner had pulled me over within sight of the Lagoon Company office. Yolanda had urgent business with Dutch and I was the convenient errand girl.

They were both young, early twenties at best. The one addressing me was a skinny little shit and his uniform hung on him like potato sack. The second could have been a stunt double on 'The Incredible Hulk'. He carried very little fat and the buttons on his shirt were straining to hold.

I didn't recognize them. Probably some of the new trainees Chief Watsup brought in periodically from Bangkok. Roanapur was the kind of place that tended to go through cops fast. Even for the corrupt ones, it wasn't always the safest of places, but it was very profitable.

At another time, I might have appreciated their concern, but it was after 11 pm and I was in a hurry to reach the Lagoon Company's office.

"Thanks officers," I said, confident once they got closer they would realize who I was and get out of my way," but I know how to take care of myself."

"Of course you do Sister," said the closest one as he came within a few feet of me.

It was then that I realized I was seriously screwed. The first one has his hand firmly on the butt of his revolver. The second was slowly circling to my other side so he had a clear line of fire without risking his partner. He also had a riot gun casually cradled in his arms.

These two definitely weren't approaching me the way I would expect. They were too alert and too professional to be cops on the Roanapur payroll. My instructors at Langley would be having fits if they could see me now. My options were limited. I had already cut the engine, so a fast getaway wasn't happening. Worse, I still had the safety strap on my Glock to prevent it shaking free while riding.

Time to play it cool.

"Just what can I do for you boys," I asked giving them my best 'come hither' smile. I put down the kickstand and stepped off the bike slowly, careful to give no outward sign of alarm.

" Sister, would you mind stepping over to the car with us? We'd like to ask you a few questions."

Somehow, my smile and outhrust tits were not impressing them. Before I could reply I felt the barrel of the riot gun jammed hard into my ribs, forcing me to freeze.

The one who was talking moved smoothly, unsnapping, then pulling the Glock from my holster and slipping it into his belt. The both took an arm and frog marched me over to the back of their cruiser. They seemed to know their business, as one forced me forward over the trunk, kicking my ankles wide, the other stood back, keeping me covered.

Shit, this was not good, not good at all. I was off balance and unable to strike back. My cheek was pressed hard into the cold damp metal. I could see the one with the riot gun watching me intently.

The frisk started out as thorough and professional, then the one with the riot gun began to leer, stepping closer he said, "Nice piece of ass Daw, you think maybe..."

The one touching me began to enjoy himself, his hands moving more slowly over my body, while he moved closer, pressing me harder down onto the trunk.

"You have no idea Kasem," he replied, no longer in English but in Thai, "the tits on this farang are not to be believed. Keep an eye out, okay?"

I tensed, hearing the sound of a switchblade opening.

"Don't move bitch," he whispered in my ear. The smell of betel juice on his breathe was beginning to nauseate me.

One hand kept me pressed tightly to the trunk while I felt the knife moving through my skirts. When he was finished he tore the back half of my skirt off and I could feel the cold night air blowing across my legs.

"Please...don't...," I begged, trying to sound scared, hoping they might drop their guard. It wasn't too hard to sound scared, so far these sick bastards hadn't given me an opening and I doubted they would leave me alive after they finished with me. Even my Ms Glock side was getting nervous.

"See," the one called Daw almost giggled to his partner. "I don't care how tough these bitches seem, take away their guns and there just like any other whore." I heard the knife blade snick shut.

He stepped back for a second, working to pull off his heavy gun belt and unzip his trousers.

About then you could hear the low rumbling sound of boat pulling up to docks on the other side of the building.

The one called Kasem snapped alert, jerking in the direction of the sound. His gun barrel searching for a target.

It was the first big mistake they had made.

In one sense I was pissed, the one getting ready to rape me had ruined my skirts. Yolanda made the Sisters buy their own uniforms and these things were expensive. However, the long heavy skirts tended to entangle my legs, even when I had them custom tailored. Now that they were cut, my legs had lots of freedom to move.

At least my Langley Kenpo instructor would have been proud. My right heel snapped up behind me with blinding speed, right between Daw's legs. It was a simple kick, but hard to pull off correctly. One inch too far away and all you got was air. You could try to turn it into a back kick, but with my knees against the car I had no force. Two inches to close and you hit your opponent's ass. Painful, but not particularly effective.

Fortunately, I could almost feel his testicles rupture under the force of the strike. He crumbled to the ground with a high pitched croaking sound.

His partner reacted quickly, but he was too close. I rolled off the car and whipped myself into his knees. He tripped, falling forward onto the trunk. One hand letting go of the riot gun to catch himself.

When the first one had been frisking me he hadn't finished the job. Maybe he was too focused on feeling me up, but he didn't check my wimple. I don't just have the outfit custom tailored just to show off my body. There was a nice pocket containing a six inch carbon fiber razor in the wimple's fabric.

Before Kasem could push himself up off the trunk, I drove the blade up under his rib cage, directly into his heart or at least that was my hope. Knife work in a street fight isn't exactly a science, so I twisted the handle and swept the blade from side to side.

I wasn't sure it was lethal, but he collapsed, groaning like a deflating balloon. I twisted out from under his heavy bulk then scrambled on my hands and knees to grab the riot gun. The asphalt painfully scraping the skin off my palms in the process. When I picked it up I pumped a round into the chamber to be sure and drew a bead on Daw.

I needn't have worried, my new friend was still curled in a fetal position, his gun belt and trousers tangled around his ankles. I took a few deep breaths, the adrenalin was making my hands shake a little and I needed to calm down before my Ms Glock side took over and blew this fuck's head off.

Not that I would mind. Rapists are the type of lower life form that need to be stamped out like cockroaches, very slowly and painfully. Still I needed information from this one.

I stepped over to him, picking up and holstering my Glock, then throwing his pistol over past the cars far side. I kept the riot gun barrel in his face the whole time. He was so focused on his pain, I don't think he noticed.

I bent forward, "hey asshole," I called. "You want to tell me what you and your partner thought you were doing."

"Fuck you," he gasped, still clutching himself.

I shifted the riot gun toward his partner on the ground. I popped off a 16 gauge round into his head, blowing a chunk of it clean off. I had no idea what they had loaded this with but even birdshot wouldn't have a chance to spread at this distance. For all intents and purposes it was a solid slug of high velocity lead.

Of course he was probably already dead from the knife wound, but I doubted his partner understood that.

I think I had Daw's attention now, but just to be sure I stepped hard on his chest. Then I pumped another round into the chamber and asked again, "I don't like you very much asshole, but if you want any chance of crawling out of this alive, you better start talking."

Despite his pain, his eyes were wide, moving wildly between the gun barrel, my face and his partners brains which were currently decorating the white paint of the police car a cheery bright red.

"PLEASE, please don't kill me," he began to whimper. "I don't know his name. He paid us 200,000 baht to make sure no one came to the Lagoon office tonight."

That was puzzling. I had assumed they were after me.

"So what, I was just a target of opportunity?" I asked, pressing the gun barrel hard into his cheek.

He didn't seem to understand so I tried again, "Why were you trying to kill me?"

"We weren't...we didn't. We just wanted to keep you away from the office while he searched it." His whimpering was really beginning to bug my Ms. Glock side.

"Sure asshole and I assume you would have just let me get back on my bike and leave after you and your partner finished raping me? Who the fuck sent you?"

He paused for a second, licking his lips. Despite his pain, he wasn't a complete idiot. He seemed to realize his chances of getting out of this alive were shrinking by the second.

"No names he...yaaaaa," he screamed as I pressed the barrel hard into his eye socket.

"Last chance asshole," I said easing off the pressure.

"He's a big guy, bigger than Kasem, a farang dam. He's got fucked up hair and evil eyes. Go to the Castle in Phuket, he hangs out there."

I eased up on the barrel for a minute, thinking. Then I heard the sound of running boots coming my way. I turned towards the noise, shouldering the riot gun, crouching and looking for targets. Then I relaxed.

Revy slowed to walk, letting both cutlasses drop to her side. Rock was few steps behind, looking a little winded from the sprint.

"Hey Eda, what's up? Heard the gunshots, figured someone was having fun." As she surveyed the scene she seemed a little disappointed that things were almost over.

Before I could answer Rock chimed in, "Are you alright?" The concern for me was apparent in his voice. Something I didn't hear very often and that always sent a pleasant warmth through me. I'd have to follow up on that when Revy wasn't around.

Before I could think of a good reply I heard a scrabbling sound behind me. Revy's cutlasses came up as she asked, "Want me to take care of that for you?"

I turned to see my favorite eunuch trying to pull up his trousers and run away.

"No, I got this one."

I decided to let Ms Glock have her fun. The first round hit him in the ass, eliciting another scream of pain. About five seconds later, the second took off the back of his head. When I jerked the pump action again, there was no more ammo, so I threw it at his body. It spun stock over barrel, reaching its end with a clatter on the asphalt near him.

I heard Rock's shocked voice, "What the hell?"

Then unexpectedly I heard Revy laughing. "Nice outfit Eda, you tryin to save customers some time?"

The breeze blowing past the back of my bare legs reminded me how that dead piece of shit had ruined my habit. I turned and marched past her, glaring.

"Rock, grab my bike and park it next to the office.," I ordered. "Revy, we'd better get over there. These two jerkoffs were getting paid to keep an eye out while someone ransacked it.

That caught her attention. She began to jog to catch up to me.

"By the way, I hope you've got some spare clothes in the office."

Revy let out another barking laugh, enjoying my discomfort. "No problem bitch," she said making a show of checking out my back, "but I'm not sure your fat ass will fit into anything of mine."

I could tell she wasn't going to let go of this one easily. Still, something told me my urgent business with Dutch was about to get side tracked.

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A/N - This is my novice try at first person - be gentle (and yes, I am speaking to you)


	2. Chapter 2

"Memories are all the sharper when they bring you within sight of your tombstone."- Sister Yolanda

I had to ask myself: why the hell was I chasing Revy's tight ass up the stairs into what might be a nasty shootout? I was in no shape for any gunfighter girl throw-downs. I had just nearly been raped, and my palms were so badly skinned during the fight that the grip of my Glock was slick with blood. Sure, I slowed down enough to let her bust through the door first, but this just wasn't my problem.

I am goddamned real life 007. Hell, 007 wishes he had my skills. I've been successfully deep cover for over three years surrounded by some of the worst bad-asses ever birthed. Abrego and Ronny have sold enough drugs and ended enough lives to be on Interpol's top ten, but by Roanapur standards, they're second tier players.

Balalaika is something else. A burned out relic from another era who forgot the Cold War ended. I mean, get over it, bitch. and move on. You lost and we won. Unfortunately, she commands the Russian equivalent of Delta Force and they follow her around like she shits gold.

Finally, there's my favorite, Chang, head of the 14K Triad in Roanapur. He exudes style and good looks like a DeNiro. He is also the biggest whack job of the lot. He was a cop who murdered an entire squad of Hong Kong police including his own partner. He's smart, charming, and completely unpredictable with an ego the size of semi. I love nothing better than taking that street trash down a notch.

These four and a thousand other aspiring wannabes form the river of shit that is my job. Because of these losers, I have to risk my life daily for the Agency, and I do it well. I'm too valuable to get myself killed when there's nothing in it for me.

Then again, Revy needed backup, and I have to admit, I am fucked up enough to do it.

In this shithole called Roanapur I have exactly one friend: Revy. Sort of like being friends with Aileen Wournos, if Aileen had won the genetic lottery for a hot body, even less of a conscience, and an astronomical kill score.

So why am I following Aileen up the stairs? Maybe because I like to have someone I can drink and play cards with. Maybe because she saved my life a few times and never asked for anything in return. Maybe because she is the one honest person in this entire cesspool.

Regardless, I came through the door a split second behind her. She swept left, I swept right. We weren't a team exactly, but we had worked together often enough to know each other's styles.

It was a waste of time. Whatever had happened was over. Revy barged through the office, room by room, checking to ensure no one was hiding and periodically barking out Dutch's name.

We searched, but all we found were ransacked files, wrecked furniture and three dead bodies, none of them Dutch. Normally, I'd be relieved, but then we found his trademark green vest by the back door.

Revy picked it up and froze. She stood there like St. Faustina having a vision of hell. I could see the dark stain around a small hole on the front right side. I grabbed the edge while Revy still held the collar and moved it up to the light. There was no exit site and I couldn't find a blood trail to the door. Hopefully that meant the wound wasn't too bad. The same couldn't be said about the three bodies. A brief look showed several large caliber holes in two. Probably that hand canon Dutch liked to carry. The third body looked liked someone tried to twist his head off. Again probably Dutch's work, since if Benny was here I doubt he would have done much but cower under a desk.

My adrenaline was finally dying off, and it began to feel like my palms had been run hard over a cheese grater, only worse. I'd holstered my Glock and knelt, trying to rifle through their pockets looking for clues, but all I was doing was abrading the skin on my hands more. That was when Revy gave a low growl. The kind of seismic bass that warns you Mount Saint Helens is about to blow.

"Eda, what the fuck happened?"

I stood up about four feet away. She had her back to me, still staring at the vest, motionless except for the 9mm barrel she had pointed at my head.

I was willing to bet this was one of those 'Whitman' moments Dutch had mentioned after I'd enjoyed a really nice bottle of scotch with him at the Yellow Flag.

Fuck it, that barrel was too damned close for my liking. She was facing away, so a fast leg sweep and then a hard strike to her temple. I handled that bitch Maid, I could handle Revy once I got the pistols away from her.

That was my Ms Glock side. The part of me nearly as suicidal as Revy. My saner side figured it was 70-30 against me beating her trigger finger, regardless of where she was looking. When it comes to gunfights, Revy ranks among the best of Roanapur's bad-asses.

When you're facing sudden death, you fall back on years of training. You analyze the situation, consider your alternatives, evaluate exit strategies and make split second decisions. Most of the time at least.

"Revy, I have no fucking clue," I said, almost spitting out the gum when I tried to pop a bubble. "So point that thing somewhere fucking else." I put my fists on my hips to emphasize I wouldn't be intimidated.

Her head snapped around, eyes dilated with the madness that lives constantly inside her. That alone told me this was not like the countless casual threats she had made before. Then she began to grin, showing some of the biggest fucking canines I have ever seen on a human being.

Friendship with Revy has it's downsides. Should have listened to Ms Glock when I had the chance.

Fortunately, God tends to watch out for women, children, and idiots. Or in my case, two out of the three. I heard steps coming up from behind. Rock had finished parking my bike and decided to join the fun.

"Revy, Eda, what's going on?" he asked, the wariness evident in his voice.

His presence seemed to calm Revy just a bit. At least she decided to stop grinning.

"Rock," she grated, shaking the vest in my direction. "Eda was here before we were. She knows something about what happened to Dutch."

Her statement was half accusation, half question. She was holding the cutlass so tight I could see the veins in her forearm standing out.

Thankfully, Rock stepped past me. He put one hand on Revy's shoulder and said in a quiet voice, "Revy, why don't you go back to the Lagoon and grab Benny. Take a look around outside. Maybe you can find out where Dutch went."

Revy looked at him and for a second and I thought she might start arguing, but then she shrugged and started out the door, still carrying the vest.

I gave her enough time to get out of earshot and then walked over to him. "Thanks Rock. For a minute I thought she might lose it."

He looked me in the eye and replied coldly, "She was about to, and unless you tell me what's going on I'll call her back in here."

Sonofabitch, that was not the answer I was looking for. Still, he had gotten Revy to leave, so maybe I could talk some sense into him.

"Rock," I started, putting a pleading edge on my voice, " you saw what was going on outside. Yolanda sent me here to hire the Lagoon for a job. I was just in the wrong place, so cut me some slack," I twisted and pointed to my ruined skirts making sure to give him a nice flash of white thong. "Do you think I did this for fun?"

I added some anger into the last bit. That got his attention. Rock and I weren't exactly...whatever, but we had something between us. Despite his well known feelings for Revy, he hadn't argued the night I seduced him in his apartment. He also hadn't thrown me out the few nights I had slipped back in, ostensibly to share the latest news about Roanapur, although we both got far more out of it than that. He was smart, clean, gentle and deliciously inexperienced. A complete contrast to every other filthy pig my job demanded I seduce here.

I could still see some doubt so, I decided to pull back the curtain a little bit. Nothing attracted Rock as much as information. "You know Hotel Moscow has been pressuring us. We got warning they were going to hit one of our sites so we bugged out and left them a surprise instead." By surprise, I meant two kilos of Semtex, enough to discourage without starting a war. "Now Yolanda needs to get a few crates out of town fast and discretely."

He paused, thinking, so I walked up to him, stopping just short of pressing into that starched white shirt he always wore. I took off my rose glasses and let him see the real me. "Rock, it's over 200 kilos of heroin. You know we can't let anyone find out we've been edging in on their business."

Maybe it was the honesty, maybe it was my tits. Either way, he seemed to relax. Wrapping my bleeding right hand in the torn fabric of my habit, I took advantage of the moment, grabbed his tie and pulled his lips to mine. He struggled only a moment then gave into it.

Damn that felt good, making me almost forget about the pain in my hands. However, I let him go after a few gloriously long seconds, just in case Revy came back. Before he could step away, I reached up and wiped the lipstick off his mouth.

"Eda," he said, already getting that scheming look, "we need to find out what happened to Dutch and you need to leave. At least until I convince Revy you had nothing to do with it. Why don't you head back to the Church and make some other arrangement for those crates."

"No problem Rock, honey," I said, with a slutty twang. I slipped back on my glasses and my Ms Glock persona as one. I looked over my shoulder, swaying my hips as I walked out. He was staring at the floor, clearly deep in thought. Shit, Rock refused to check out my ass. If I hadn't enjoyed that kiss so much I might wonder if he was gay.

I managed to avoid Revy on the way out. She might be calming down or not, no reason to take a chance. I'd check what the dead would be rapist said, something about a castle in Phuket. I'd never heard of it but maybe there was some old ruin there. Push come to shove, I had enough credit at Langley to check any phone intercepts they made recently.

I rode my bike through Triad territory to avoid Hotel Moscow on my way back. I hadn't gone far before I hit one of their roadblocks. When I stopped, a black sedan pulled up boxing me in. Not that unusual whenever some of the other players were facing off. The 14K took pains to keep other people's trouble out of their territory.

Rather than just checking me out and waving me to a side road, the lead man at the checkpoint asked me to wait while he made a call. About five minutes later another sedan pulled up a few yards away. It was a black stretch Lincoln, one of many Chang's higher ups liked to drive around in. It made me twitchy. The Church had no problems with the 14K, but things here change fast.

I was still sitting on my bike, trying to look nonchalant while I hid my torn skirts from the Triad guards. Then, one of the them opened the sedan's back door. I recognized the person who stepped out immediately. In a moment, my embarrassment vanished and sweat began to roll down my spine. It didn't help when I heard about a half dozen AKs and pistols being cocked.

His English was perfect and only slightly accented, like most of Hong Kong's elite. Bui's words were polite, but his tone was hard, "Sister Eda, the Dai Lo has requested your presence."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3 - Strange Awakenings**

_"Fortunately, memories are rarely as fucked up as real life_" - Anonymous

There are days when the scripture says you should "Clap your hands and praise the Lord".

Then there are days like this, the ones that simply suck beyond any rational explanation. It's times like these that I remember God has a seriously bent sense of humor when it comes to me.

Not that I'm completely ungrateful. Getting to kill those two slimebags that tried to rape me wasn't the worst thing that could have happened. But then my one goddamned friend threatens to shoot me, Rock treats me like shit and now I'm sitting in the back of a limo surrounded by guards and the right hand of Roanapur's most dangerous killer .

Bui had refused to even look at me since I got off my bike. Once he saw the state of my skirts his mind must have jumped to a few less than complimentary conclusions. Given my cover personality I couldn't really blame him. I'm the hot, foul-mouthed, bubble-gum smacking nun with barely-there outfits and tacky pink sunglasses. They underestimate me, which is the point of the persona, but it has its drawbacks, like sitting in the back of the limo listening to Bui's guards top each other in their insults towards me.

"_Slut_," one spat out in Cantonese.

Another mouthed off a string of words, but I only caught "fucking dog".

Then Bui lit a cigarette and said to one of his men, "It's an insult to bring a whore like this to meet the Dai Lo." Until that my sole thought had been surviving a meeting with Chang, now it became about something else, respect.

That meant I needed to stop somewhere and find a change of clothes. I knew little about Bui, but he hadn't risen through the ranks of 49er's and red poles to the level of Chang's Vanguard by being stupid. Maybe I could reason with him.

I took off my glasses and leaned towards him. "Bui, this hasn't been a good night for me. Some fake cops tried to score a freebie on me. They're out of commission now, but so is my outfit. I was headed back to the Church when you side-tracked me. I don't want to show disrespect to Mr. Chang by showing up looking like this. I'd like to pick up some decent clothes on the way."

He looked contemptuously over those sunglasses that seemed to be part of the Triad's uniform, obviously unconvinced. He took a long drag of his Philip Morris, and then stared out the window, ignoring me.

So much for the reasonable approach.

The three guards in the back of the limo had relaxed, dismissing me as a threat unworthy of concern. Calling a woman a whore, dog and slut a doesn't exactly inspire a sense of caution. I used that.

My elbow smashed the nose of the guard on my right to a bloody ruin. Almost simultaneously the guard across from me found himself impaled on a size 8, steel toed boot, paralyzing his diaphragm.

The guard on my left was a little faster, he twisted towards me, trying to draw his revolver, I head butted him and used both hands to twist the pistol away.

I turned towards Bui pointing my stolen weapon at his head. He already had his own weapon up and the barrels were almost touching.

In my nastiest bitch voice I shouted in so-so Cantonese, "Your choice, Bui. New clothes or A FUCKING WAR."

My Ms Glock side thought it might be fun, but I knew I didn't have a chance as the guards around me began to recover. Besides, I had his attention, so I slowly laid the pistol on the carpet. Given the stiffness of my fingers, it was a freaking miracle I hadn't dropped it to begin with. I wondered if any of them noticed I never got a finger on the trigger, only wrapped it around the guard.

Everything rested with Bui now.

The guards on either side didn't wait. Two grabbed my shoulders and slammed me back into the seat. The one with the smashed nose grabbed my damaged right hand like he was trying to crush it, twisting it behind me. I arched in pain, the involuntary tears blurred my vision like a shroud. One of the others took advantage of my posture to drive a straight fingered hand into my gut.

My bubble gum shot out onto the floor, and I tried not to puke.

The third guard, the one I had kicked, brought up his pistol in preparation to whip me with it.

Then Bui snapped a single word that I couldn't catch through the haze of pain.

The guards froze, then reluctantly leaned back into their seats, clearly not happy, but ignoring me. One handed the other a cloth so he could stop any more blood from hitting his ruined shirt front.

Ignoring the pain, I looked up and stared at Bui. He was leaning back, eyes hidden by those glasses. We stared at each other this way for a few seconds then he turned on the drivers intercom and gave some directions followed by a brief call on his cell.

It was only a minute or so, barely giving me time to recover before the limo pulled to the curb. One of the guards jumped out, opening the door for Bui and another shoved me out to follow him. A few clipped sentences from him, and the guards remained with car. Bui set off without a word, so I took the hint and followed.

We arrived quickly at a non-descript apartment complex, one of many bland, stumpy white blocks throughout Roanapur. It was what passed for a middle class dwelling in Triad territory. Bui buzzed one of the apartments, and the wrought iron gate opened immediately. Obviously we were expected.

He took the stairwell two steps at a time and covered four floors in seconds. I pushed hard to keep up. It was now about 5 am, and it hadn't been a good night for me.

We stopped at one of the non –descript doors. Bui didn't knock; he simply twisted the knob and entered. I followed him trying to hold my skirts together behind me not knowing what to expect.

For a second, my mind locked up, refusing to accept what my eyes were telling it. A sleepy eyed woman-child was sitting on the couch, a Nintendo controller dangling from her grip. Despite the flannel pajamas, there was no way I could forget that black bob of hair, nor the heavily mascaraed eyes.

FUCKING SAWYER…..SAWYER THE CLEANER….my Ms Glock side screamed.

My fingers scrabbled impotently at my leather shoulder holster until a few neurons fired, and I remembered my Glock was back with one of Bui's guards.

Then came the second and even worse shock.

"Iyyaaa…Bui, why you bring evil nun to my house. This how Master Chang thank me for countless services?" Shenhua yelled.

I looked over to see her wearing a pair of loose cotton slacks and a stained blue cotton top. One hand was holding a large spoon like a throwing knife and the other a cooking pot.

I'd seen less surreal Dali paintings. I considered turning and making a run for it. The last time I had seen Shenhua, she was falling from the second floor of the Lagoon's old offices. Falling because I had just put three 9mm slugs into her. I'd heard later she'd survived but never given it a second thought. Professionals in Roanapur don't carry grudges; unlike me, they can't afford to.

Bui spoke before I could take a step."Shenhua, the nun is a guest of the Dai Lo. She needs to…" he paused, looking at me and considering his choice of words. "…She needs to quickly change, then come with me. You will be paid for the inconvenience."

Shenhua, slammed the spoon and pot down onto the small stove, starring at me, saying nothing and stamping one sandaled toe.

I tried my best grin. "Hey Shenhua, how's it hangin?"

Bui glared at us both until Shenhua finally grabbed my arm, mumbling, "Silly bitch nun."

She dragged me through a beaded curtain into the apartment's only other room. At this point I saw something a little more interesting.

Splayed across the room's only bed was a tall, thin, but well built blond man, naked as the day he was born. He was snoring loudly , face down.

Shenhua dragged me past him saying, "You no mind him, Rotton up late last night."

My mind started wandering: Sawyer, Shenhua, Rotton, and one bed. Freud would have a field day with this. No one can ever accuse me of being a prude, but between Shenhua's blades and Sawyer's chainsaw, I had to wonder how Rotton did it.

Shaking my thoughts free, I found myself in front of a small clothes rack that passed for the room's closet. Shenhua perused the outfits. She pulled out a black silk cheongsam and held it up to me critically.

"Need to shave hips. All nuns so fat?" she asked.

Rotton punctuated the statement with an obnoxiously loud snore.

I ignored her. After a few more attempts, she finally found a simple white silk blouse and a pair of black cotton slacks. I pulled off my habit, but before I could grab the clothes, Shenhua jerked them away a shocked look on her face.

"What happen to hands? No blood, these quality clothes," she snapped. Stepping into the small room off the bedroom she came back with gauze and tape. Deftly and very painfully, she slapped a pad of gauze on each palm and wrapped the edges down with medical tape. "No good, too much rock, dirt in wound. You need doctor," she said shaking her head.

I didn't have time for this. "I won't argue with you, Shenhua, but Bui isn't go wait much longer."

"You life crazy nun. Gunwoman need hands."

I didn't bother disagreeing, just jerked on the clothes as best I could. The blouse was way too tight across the chest and I could barely button the slacks, but they would do. My riding boots wouldn't exactly fit with the slacks, and Shenhua's feet were a lot smaller than mine. Luckily I found a pair of rattan slippers I could just fit into. I stuffed my wrecked habit into a plastic bag that Shenhua handed to me.

Before I could step out, Shenhua held up a mirror. Damn, my hair was a mess, and I had a scrape on the left side of my face I hadn't even felt. She disgustedly handed me a brush and a few hair pins. I put my hair up quickly, hoping it didn't look too bad.

Shenhua was tapping her foot again, so I handed he mirror back. Still, it didn't feel right. I looked at her for a moment and said, "Thanks bitch, sorry about shootin ya…"

She cut me off, eyes narrowing with anger "Hope Dai Lo let me kill you slow."

Some people have no sense of humor.

The trip to Chang's was short. He owned the penthouse of Roanapur's tallest high-rise. Maybe he was compensating, some things even the Agency's files don't tell you.

Bui ushered me into a huge office suite then left without a word. The room was dominated by a large desk and three leather couches in a semicircle. Half the room was full length glass walls so the owner could survey the city. There was even a pair of 'big eye' binoculars on a stand.

The master of this little ego castle was standing with his back to me. He was wearing a white terrycloth robe and sandals. When he faced me, I could see he had just finished a morning swim. Despite that, he still managed the GQ look. Handsome, not a hair out of place, and exuding style. I'd never seen Chang up close like this. Despite my misgivings, Ms. Glock liked what she saw.

He put both hands in his pockets and a disarming grin on his face as he approached.

"Hello, Eda." His eyes gave me a once over and his smile broadened. "Nice outfit. Can I offer you some coffee, or maybe some breakfast?"

I would have cheerfully strangled him for a scotch, but I had to establish myself quickly. Dealing with one of Roanapur's most powerful people was like a magic act. Every move had elements of reality and illusion.

The reality was my complete vulnerability. I was unarmed and standing in front of the most powerful man in Roanapur. He could disappear me in a moment. The Agency and even the Church might look for me, but they wouldn't know where to begin. I had been out of contact when I was snatched.

The illusion was to establish myself as something of value to Chang without damaging my cover. He wanted something if he brought me here like this, wanted it badly. However, the only thing of value in Roanapur was power, and a lone, unarmed nun doesn't exactly project superiority. This illusion was going to take attitude, a touch of misdirection, and lots of pure bullshit.

"So Chang, did Bui bring me here because you're thinking about trading up?"

He looked at me, puzzled.

"Your usual girls from Flora are tiny brunettes," I said. "You decide a full-sized blonde might be more of a challenge?"

In a split second, I saw a variety of emotions cross his face, surprise that I knew about the women from Flora, anger that someone as lowly as me would dare monitor him and, I could swear, a very surprising glimpse of hunger, but the smooth smile returned so fast I couldn't be sure.

Change laughed and walked over to a silver coffee service. "You take cream?" he asked, ignoring my question.

"No thanks, but let's get past the small talk, Mr. Chang. Your guys grabbed me off the street. What do really you want from me?". I let my hips sway as I moved over and sat on the couch unasked. Ms Glock wanted to put her feet up on the glass table, but that might be pushing it.

He laughed again. "There's nothing simple about you, Eda, is there?" He set the coffee in front of me and sat down on the couch to my right.

I felt an uncomfortable chill, part of me wondering if he knew it was me who had called him 'street trash' not so long ago.

He continued, "In three years you've risen from hired gun to Yolanda's apprentice. That's impressive even by my standards. "

"First, Sister Yolanda doesn't have an apprentice, it's against Church rules," I lied. "Second, I'm just a good gunslinger. I'm havin too much fun to waste my time organizing weekly charity events. Third, I'm flattered that you think so highly of me, but really, why would you care?"

He leaned back and sipped coffee, smiling.

"What's so funny? Are you going to make me guess? " As I asked, I gave into the aroma and wrapped my hands abound the coffee mug, sipping fast. The heat from the mug cut through the gauze and seared my damaged palms.

He crossed two well muscled legs and rested his feet on the table. "I was envisioning you surrounded by elderly women playing...what do you call it...Bingo?"

"Funny, but poker is more my style," I responded, but it wasn't amusing at all. I was walking a tight rope, still in the dark about why the hell I had been grabbed off the street, and Chang wanted to play games.

My frustration and exhaustion, combined with the pain made me careless. The coffee cup slipped from my hands towards the table. Before the first drop splashed Chang had snatched the cup, setting it down with barely a drop spilled. I had heard the rumors of Chang's speed, but I thought it was all hype until that moment. Noticing the bandages for the first time, his hand moved with similar speed to grab mine.

"Fucking hell!" I couldn't keep the words or the implied weakness from spilling out. The bastard had inadvertently dug his thumb into palm when he grabbed me. I had to twist my body to break his grasp, practically leaping off of the couch and leaving the makeshift bandage snagged in Chang's hand. Tearing away the gauze that way reopened the wounds. I held my hand close to my chest, hoping the pain would stop. Shit, I was tired and hungry, pissed off and bleeding. If it had been anyone else, I would have just left, but I didn't dare flip off Chang. The whole situation sucked.

"Did my men do this?" Chang asked in a low voice, the charming smile gone.

"No, they'd be dead if they had."

Seemingly wary of my anger, his next movement was slow and careful, one hand cupped mine and the other held my elbow, guiding me back down to the couch.

"Let's take care of this, and then I'll explain," he told me.

He put my right hand in my lap, palm up, so the blood didn't drop on his expensive carpet while he began to unwrap the ruined bandage. Involuntarily, I tried to pull away from the pain, but his grip was strong.

"Relax," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

He had to tug the last wrap off as it adhered to the skin. I wasn't going to give him any satisfaction, so I showed nothing more than gritted teeth.

"Damn," he said raising one eyebrow," how the hell did you do this?"

Not waiting for an answer he got up and walked away, heading for a door on the opposite side of the room.

While he was gone, I tried desperately to think of some way out of this mess, but drew a blank. Running would just show how weak I was. All Ms. Glock could come up with was searching his desk for a pistol, not that I was in any shape to use it.

While I was berating myself for my stupidity, Chang returned holding a beat up metal box and a glass of amber liquid.

"Here," he said, "this should help." I supported the glass with what remained of my left hand and tried to sip. The scotch burned like hot caramel. Then the glass began to slip, so I gulped it all down to avoid spilling it.

Chang took the glass away and gave me a sour look. "Show a little appreciation. That's 25 year old Talisker."

He opened the box, taking out a small jar, some white cloths, and two black chop sticks. The jar contained a red, thick cream, into which he dipped one of the small clothes using the sticks like some traditional Chinese doctors I had seen. With surprising gentleness, he spread the cream on my palm.

Seeing Chang so focused, Ms Glock was ready, even eager, to strike out, but I waited, hoping for a better opportunity. At first I felt a mild burn, then a creeping numbness. The relief was glorious.

After a minute he spoke. "This is dragons blood. It will take the pain away for a little while until I can clean this mess up." Then he began to probe my palm with the sharp points.

I felt like screaming, "Are you fucking crazy?" but it didn't hurt. So I sat there like a child while he deftly picked out the worst of the gravel and other debris.

In a funny way I felt complimented. People with his looks, power and money, weren't usually nice to the person I pretended to be. Even though I knew he ultimately wanted something, I couldn't help but relax slightly. Maybe I needed to upgrade my assessment of Chang from 'hardened killer' to 'attractive, charming and nice hardened killer'.

Even though he was helping me, I couldn't let him see any more weakness. In an annoyed tone I asked, "Since when did you become a doctor?"

"Show a little respect Eda. I'm doing you a favor here."

I paused. "Alright Mr. Wan-Sang Chang, Dai Lo, and honored ruler of the Roanapur branch of the 14K Triad. What the fuck are you doing?" I asked. Then for emphasis I added," And that's Sister Eda to you."

He paused for a second, letting out a genuine laugh before beginning to work on my other hand.

"Alright, _Sister_ Eda," he said adding his own emphasis."I would like your help and I am willing to offer something in exchange for it."

Praise God, an opportunity. I leaned back, watching, but saying nothing.

He looked up for a moment, " Sister Yolanda needs some convincing to provide me with a special order."

"What kind of special order are we talking here?"

"Nothing The Church can't handle. A few M-2 Brownings, a dozen grenade launchers, that sort of thing," he replied.

I slipped off my glasses with a newly bandaged hand. "You can buy that sort of thing in the open air market on a Tuesday. Since when do you need the Church's help, let alone mine for things like that?"

"Oh, and a dozen Stinger anti-aircraft missiles," he added innocently.

I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing, which incidentally, felt really good after all the shit I had gone through tonight.

"Yeah," I replied, the scotch making my tongue a little too glib "and I'd like to be fucking queen of this shithole."

The serious look in his eyes brought an end to my laughter.

No wonder he wanted my help. Trading in that type of weaponry could create a serious shitstorm. Yolanda wouldn't like the idea of helping the Triad potentially shoot down airliners at will.

"Even if we had them, there is no way Yolanda would allow it. It's too fucking dangerous dealing that crap."

"Hence, why you are here today."

I shook my head. "Why the fuck would you need Stingers? I haven't noticed Ronny 'the Jaws' flying any jets around here lately."

He continued working on my other hand. "Maybe it was before your time," he started, "but Hotel Moscow has a couple of attack helicopters, and they are more than willing to use them. Why do you think I didn't crush them when they first got here?"

Now I was interested. So Chang wanted an equalizer and he needed a favor to get it, but not just any favor, a huge one. Just what a working girl having a hard day needed.

"So what do I get in exchange for this," I asked as he continued bandaging my second hand.

"You mean my healing skills and eternal gratitude aren't enough?"

I had to admit, he had a certain attraction. "Not hardly, honey," I answered. With my mind finally cleared of pain, I began to take advantage of my negotiating skills. I leaned forward to show a little cleavage in my too tight blouse.

He moved closer, not longer across from me but beside me. He seemed intent on tying the bandages neatly, but I could see the way he eyes looked sideward. I guess that I did a better job with the hair and outfit than I had thought.

"If you can get the goods, we can work something out," he replied.

I let my thigh fall against his and shrugged my shoulders back, as if trying to let out a few kinks but giving him a better eyeful as well. " In the mean time I also need a little information," I said.

"You're pushing it Eda," he warned, but I noticed he hadn't drawn back from my thigh at all. If anything he had drawn closer, his strong hands still fussing with the bandage.

"Think of it as a gesture of faith. I do represent the Church after all. And this isn't for me, call it a charity case."

He said nothing, but the look on his face invited me to continue.

It was a risk, but I didn't think Dutch's disappearance was Chang's style. "Someone snagged Dutch last night. I was there. Wrong place, wrong time. But there is a lead. I need to know about a castle in Phuket."

That brought his eyes up from my cleavage. "You mean The Castle? Easy enough, but trust me, it's not a place I think you'd enjoy.."

"What do you mean?"

"The Castle is a special club on the island. Deals mostly with new money out of Eastern Europe. Tourists looking for things they can't find at home."

Before I could ask more there was a knock at the door and Bui walked in. "Dai Lo, you asked me to remind you about your call."

Chang finished the last deft knot on my newly bandaged hands and stood up, a calloused but polite hand on my elbow offering me an invitation to depart. He stopped by his desk for a moment and wrote an address before taking me to the door.

As he handed me the note he said, "Here's your good faith. Now, show me that I'm not wrong about you."

I put on my sunglasses and smiled my best smile for him. "You know, everyone warned me about you and your charm."

"I'll take that as a compliment." He had a carefree grin that you wouldn't expect from a hardened crime lord. Ms. Glock was loving it, but we had to leave.

Before I was all the way out the door, Chang's voice called me back. "Oh, and Eda? Get those hands looked at by a professional, I may be the Dai Lo, but my powers only go so far."

I looked back at Bui, standing like a guardian spirit next to Chang and replied, "You got it, honey. And when you're ready to trade up, you know where to find me."

Unlike Rock, I was pretty sure Chang was enjoying the view as I departed.

_A/N First, a major thanks to Unkeptsecret for the editing work. Second, writing a Chang/Eda scene was really hard. Finally, my thanks to the readers and reviewers.


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